


Picking up the Pieces

by Confused-Bird (DoomedTimeline)



Series: Bring me back to you [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Injury, M/M, Marriage, Military AU, Shance Support Week 2018, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, he does not have a prosthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 18:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14118462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomedTimeline/pseuds/Confused-Bird
Summary: Shiro came home from the war more broken than when he left for it. Now Lance has to pick up the pieces





	Picking up the Pieces

****

Lance knew that his husband wasn't the same as before he left for the war. Both physically and mentally. It hurt sometimes, just seeing how hurt Shiro was. He tried his best, accommodating and changing their home to fit Shiro’s needs, never locking the doors, never being too loud, comforting him when the nightmares got too bad, he did everything, anything. 

He wouldn't forget the day that Shiro had come home to him. His husband standing in the doorway with his duffle bag over his shoulder, a tuft of stark white in his hair, and right arm noticeably missing. Lance had cried at first, launching into his husband and refusing to let go until Shiro had wrapped his arm around him. He hadn’t seen his husband in person in almost two years. He never wanted to let go again. 

It took Shiro a few weeks to get back into routine, Lance didn't rush it. He promised to standby him every step of the way, no matter how long it took. 

Lance idly played with Shiro’s hair as his head rested against his chest, enjoying the comforting weight as he watched Shiro’s back rise and fall as he slept. He sighed softly and shifted slightly, reaching for the remote and turning the T.V. off. 

They were both exhausted, and Lance couldn't blame either of them. 

He had just come home from a long shift at work to find their kitchen looking like a tornado had rolled through. Lance shrugged his shoes and jacket off before looking around the rest of their house. 

“Shiro?” Lance called, initially not finding any evidence of his husband on the first level. He made his way upstairs, starting to get very worried about Shiro. 

“Shiro!” he called again, looking down the hallway. 

“In here” Shiro’s muffled voice came from their bathroom. Lance let out a sigh of relief and quickly walked into the bathroom, recoiling slightly at the sight before him. 

Shiro was sitting on the toilet, cuts over his arm and a quickly darkening burn on his palm. It looked as though there was a futile attempt to clean the wound as well. Shiro looked up with a miserable face, holding up a washcloth that smelled eerily like rubbing alcohol.

“Oh Shiro…” Lance started, walking forward and taking the washcloth from his husband's hand. “What happened?”

“I tried making dinner but… it's pretty hard with only one hand… I accidentally dropped something and then knocked the knife over, which cut my arm.” Shiro explains, letting Lance wash off his cuts, hissing softly at the sting. “I got frustrated and punched something, which cut me up more… then I slammed my hand down because I was even more frustrated but accidentally slammed it onto the hot burner… I turned it off before coming up here.”

Lance nodded along, listening to his husband as he bandaged up his arm, next came the burn. 

“Hand" he said, quickly taking Shiro’s hand in his own. He hummed softly inspecting over the burn closely. It wasn't too bad but it would definitely need to be wrapped up. He set it down gently and reached above Shiro, rummaging through the cabinet until he pulled down the burn ointment and a bit of gauze.

“you could have waited for me to come home, you know” Lance said softly, applying the ointment as gently as he could.

“I-... didn't want to seem weak…” Shiro whimpered, looking away. “I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't a burden on you"

Lance's head snapped up at that, frowning deeply. He tied off the gauze quickly and cupped Shiro’s face.

“Now where the hell did you get the idea that you're a burden to me" he demanded, looking deeply into his eyes.

Tears began prickling at Shiro's eyes as he gingerly put his hand over Lance's.

“You've been doing everything for me… cooking, cleaning, helping me put on some clothes-"

“Hey now, excuse you mister you are definitely not a burden. I don't mind helping you, I  _ like  _ being there for you. If I didn't I wouldn't be your husband!”

“Lance-"

“No! You are me husband and I love you, I promised I would be there through thick and thin and here I am now, helping and being there for you”

Lance kissed him deeply, brushing away the slight wetness on Shiro's face. 

“I love you, okay?” he mumbled against his lips. “don't think otherwise.”

Shiro nodded, kissing back softly. 

That was how Lance found himself laying in bed with his husbands head resting against his chest. His other hand toyed with his own set of dog tags slowly, reading the names on both of them. 

_ Takashi Shirogane _

_ Lance McClain-Shirogane _

He smiled to himself, wrapping his hand around them slowly. 

Things were going to be okay, he would make sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> Uploading on mobile is a bitch, I will fix tags later


End file.
